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COLLECTION

OF

ANCIENT AND MODERN

BRITISH AUTHORS

VOL. CXLIV.

A

RESIDENCE IN FRANCE;

WITH AN

EXCURSION UP THE RHINE,

AND A

SECOND VISIT TO SWITZERLAND.

BY J. FENIMORE COOPER ESQ.

AUTHOR OF "THE PILOT," "THE SPY," &c.

PARIS,

BAUDRY'S EUROPEAN LIBRARY,

RUE DU COQ. NEAR THE LOUVRE;

SOLD ALSO BY AMYOT, RUE DE LA PAIX; TRUCHY, BOULEVARD DES ITALIENS;

THEOPHILE BARROIS, JUN., RUE RICHELIEU; LIBRAIRIE DES ETRANGERS,

RUE NEUVE-SAINT-AUGUSTIN; AND HEIDELOFF AND CAMPE,

RUE VIVIENNE.

1836.

PREFACE.

The introduction to Part I. of the "Sketches of Switzerland," leavesvery little for the author to say in addition. The reader will beprepared to meet with a long digression, that touches on the situationand interests of another country, and it is probable he will understandthe author's motive for thus embracing matter that is not strictlyconnected with the principal subject of the work.

The first visit of the writer to Switzerland was paid in 1828; thatwhich is related in these two volumes, in 1832. While four years hadmade no changes in the sublime nature of the region, they had seriouslyaffected the political condition of all Europe. They had also produced avariance of feeling and taste in the author, that is the unavoidableconsequences of time and experience. Four years in Europe are an age tothe American, as are four years in America to the European. Jeffersonhas somewhere said, that no American ought to be more than five years,at a time, out of his own country, lest he get _behind_ it. This may betrue, as to its _facts_; but the author is convinced that there is moredanger of his getting _before_ it, as to _opinion_. It is not improbablethat this book may furnish evidence of both these truths.

Some one, in criticising the First Part of Switzerland, has intimatedthat the writer has a purpose to serve with the "Trades' Unions," by thepurport of some of his remarks. As this is a country in which the avowalof a tolerably sordid and base motive seems to be indispensable, evento safety, the writer desires to express his sense of the critic'sliberality, as it may save him from a much graver imputation.

There is really a painful humiliation in the reflection, that a citizenof mature years, with as good natural and accidental means forpreferment as have fallen to the share of most others, may pass his lifewithout a _fact_ of any sort to impeach his disinterestedness, and yetnot be able to express a generous or just sentiment in behalf of hisfellow-creatures, without laying himself open to suspicions that are asdegrading to those who entertain them, as they are injurious to allindependence of thought, and manliness of character.

CONTENTS.

LETTER I.

Influence of the late Revolution in France.--General Lafayette.--Sketchof his Private Life.--My visits to him.--His opinion of Louis XVI.--Mr.Morris and Mr. Crawford.--Duplicity of Louis XVIII.--Charles X.--MarieAntoinette.--Legitimacy of the Duc de Bordeaux.--Discovery of the Plotof 1822.--Lafayette's conduct on that occasion.--A negro Spy.--GeneralKnyphausen.--Louis-Philippe and Lafayette.--My visit to Court.--TheKing, the Queen, Madame Adelaide, and the Princesses.--MarshalJourdan.--The Duke of Orleans.--Interview with the King.--"_Adieul'Amerique!_"--Conversation with Lafayette.--The _JusteMilieu._--Monarchy not inconsistent with Republican Institutions.--Partyin favour of the Duc de Bordeaux.

LETTER II.

The Cholera in Paris.--Its frightful ravages.--Desertion of the city--Mydetermination to remain.--Deaths in the higher classes.--Unexpectedarrival and retreat.--Praiseworthy conduct of the Authorities.--TheCholera caricatured!--Invitation from an English General.--Atmosphericalappearance denoting the arrival of the Cholera.--Lord RobertFitzgerald.--Dinner at the house of Madame de B----

LETTER III.

Insecurity of the Government--Louis-Philippe and thePear.--Caricatures.--Ugliness of the Public Men of France.--The Duke deValmy.--Care-worn aspect of Society under the New Regime.--Controversyin France respecting the Cost of Government in America.--Conduct ofAmerican Agents in Europe

LETTER IV.

Gradual disappearance of the Cholera.--Death of M. Casimir Perier.--HisFuneral.--Funeral of General Lamarque.--Magnificent MilitaryEscort.--The Duc de Fitzjames.--An Alarm.--First symptoms of popularRevolt.--Scene on the Pont Royal.--Charge on the people by a body ofcavalry.--The _Sommations_.--General Lafayette and the _BonnetRouge_.--Popular Prejudices in France, England, and America.--Contest inthe Quartier Montmartre.--The Place Louis XVI.--A frightenedSentinel.--Picturesque Bivouac of troops in the Carrousel.--Criticalsituation.--Night-view from the Pont des Arts.--Appearance of theStreets on the following morning.--England an enemy to Liberty.--Affairat the Porte St. Denis.--Procession of Louis-Philippe through thestreets.--Contest in the Rue St. Mery.--Sudden Panic.--Terror of anational Guard and a young Conscript.--Dinner with aCourtier.--Suppression of the Revolt

LETTER V.

National Guards in the Court of the Palace.--Unclaimed Dead in theMorgue.--View of the Scene of Action.--A blunderingArtillerist.--Singular Spectacle.--The Machinations of theGovernment.--Martial Law.--Violations of the Charter.--Laughable Scenein the Carrousel.--A refractory Private of the National Guard.

LETTER VI.

Aspect of Paris.--Visit to Lafayette.--His demeanour.--His account ofthe commencement of the Revolt.--Machinations of the Police.--Characterof Lafayette.--His remarkable expression to General ----.--Conversationon the Revolution of July.--The _Doctrinaires_.--Popular Sympathy inEngland and on the Rhine.--Lafayette's dismissal from the command of theNational Guards.--The Duke of Orleans and his Friends.--MilitaryTribunals in Paris.--The Citizen King in the Streets.--Obliteration ofthe _Fleur-de-lis._--The Royal Equipage.--The Duke of Brunswick inParis.--His forcible Removal from France.--His Reception inSwitzerland.--A ludicrous Mistake.

LETTER VII.

Public Dinner.--Inconsiderate Impulses of Americans.--Rambles inParis.--The Churches of Paris.--View from the leads of Notre Dame.--ThePlace Royale.--The Bridges.--Progress of the Public Works.--The Palacesof the Louvre and the Tuileries.--Royal Enclosures in the Gardens of theTuileries.--Public Edifices.--Private Hotels and Gardens.--My Apartmentsin the house of the Montmorencies.--Our other Residences.--Noble Abodesin Paris.--Comparative Expense of Living in Paris and NewYork.--American Shopkeepers, and those of Europe.

LETTER VIII.

Preparations for leaving Paris.--Travelling arrangements.--OurRoute.--The Chateau of Ecouen.--The_Croisee_.--Senlis.--Peronne.--Cambray.--Arrival at theFrontier.--Change in the National Character.--Mons.--Brussels.--AFete.--The Picture Gallery.--Probable Partition of Belgium.

School System in America.--American Maps.--LeaveBrussels.--Louvain.--Quarantine.--Liege.--The Soleil d'Or.--King Leopoldand Brother.--Royal Intermarriages.--Environs of Liege.--The Cathedraland the Church of St. Jacques.--Ceremonies of CatholicWorship.--Churches of Europe.--Taverns of America.--Prayer in theFields.--Scott's error as regards the Language spoken in Liege.--Womenof Liege.--Illumination in honour of the King

LETTER XI.

Leave Liege.--Banks of the Meuse.--Spa.--Beautiful Promenades.--RobinsonCrusoe.--The Duke of Saxe-Cobourg.--Former magnificence ofSpa.--Excursions in the vicinity.--Departure fromSpa.--Aix-la-Chapelle.--The Cathedral.--The Postmaster'sCompliments.--Berghem.--German Enthusiasm.--Arrival at Cologne.

LETTER XII.

The Cathedral of Cologne.--The eleven thousand Virgins.--The Skulls ofthe Magi--House in which Rubens was born.--Want of Cleanliness inCologne.--Journey resumed.--The Drachenfels.--Romantic Legend.--AConvent converted into an Inn.--Its Solitude.--A Night in it.--AStorm.--A Nocturnal Adventure.--Grim Figures.--An Apparition.--TheMystery dissolved.--Palace of the Kings of Austrasia.--Banks of theRhine.--Coblentz.--Floating Bridges.--Departure from Coblentz.--Castleof the Ritterstein.--Visit to it.--Its Furniture.--The RitterSaal.--Tower of the Castle.--Anachronisms.

LETTER XIII.

Ferry across the Rhine.--Village of Rudesheim.--The _Hinter-hausen_Wine.--Drunkenness.--Neapolitan curiosity respecting America.--TheRhenish Wines enumerated.--Ingelheim.--Johannisberg.--ConventualWine.--Unseasonable praise.--House and Grounds of Johannisberg.--Stateof Nassau.--Palace at Biberich.--The Gardens.--Wiesbaden.--Its publicPromenade.--Frankfort on the Maine.

LETTER XIV.

Boulevards of Frankfort.--Political Disturbances in the town.--_Le petitSavoyard_.--Distant glimpse of Homberg.--Darmstadt.--TheBergestrasse.--Heidelberg.--Noisy Market-place.--The Ruins andGardens.--An old Campaigner.--Valley of theNeckar.--Heilbronn.--Ludwigsberg.--Its Palace.--The late Queen ofWurtemberg.--The Birthplace of Schiller.--Comparative claims of Schillerand Goethe.--Stuttgart.--Its Royal Residences.--The Princess ofHechingen.--German Kingdoms.--The King and Queen of Wurtemberg.--SirWalter Scott.--Tubingen.--Ruin of a Castle of the middleages.--Hechingen.--Village of Bahlingen.--The Danube.--The BlackForest.--View from a mountain on the frontier of Baden.--EnterSwitzerland.

LETTER XV.

A Swiss Inn.--Cataract of the Rhine.--Canton of Zurich.--Town ofZurich.--Singular Concurrence.--Formidable Ascent.--ExquisiteView.--Einsiedeln.--The Convent.--"_Par exemple_."--Shores of the Lakeof Zug.--The _Chemin Creux_.--Water Excursion to Alpnach.--Lake ofLungern.--Lovely Landscape.--Effects of Mists on the prospect.--NaturalBarometer.--View from the Brunig.--Enter the great Canton of Berne.--AnEnglishman's Politics.--Our French Companion.--The Giesbach.--MountainMusic.--Lauterbrunnen.--Grindewald.--Rising of the Waters in1830.--Anecdote.--Excursion on the Lake to Thoun.

LETTER XVI.

Conspiracy discovered.--The Austrian Government and the FrenchCarlists.--Walk to La Lorraine.--Our old friend "Turc."--Conversationwith M. W----.--View of the Upper Alps.--Jerome Bonaparte at LaLorraine.--The Bears of Berne.--Scene on the Plateforme.

LETTER XVII.

Our Voiturier and his Horses.--A Swiss Diligence.--Morat.--Inconstancyof feeling.--Our Route to Vevey.--Lake Leman.--Difficulty in hiring aHouse.--"Mon Repos" engaged for a month.--Vevey.--The great Square.--TheTown-house.--Environs of Vevey.--Summer Church and WinterChurch.--Clergy of the Canton.--Population of Vaud.--Electivequalifications of Vaud.

LETTER XVIII.

Neglect of the Vine in America.--Drunkenness in France.--Choleraespecially fatal to Drunkards.--The Soldier's and the Sailor'sVice.--Sparkling Champagne and Still Champagne.--Excessive Price ofthese Wines in America.--Burgundy.--Proper soil for theVine.--Anecdote.--Vines of Vevey.--The American Fox-grape.

LETTER XIX.

The Leman Lake.--Excursions on it.--The coast of Savoy.--Grandeur andbeauty of the Rocks.--Sunset.--Evening Scene.--American Familiesresiding on the banks of the Lake.--Conversation with a Vevaisan on thesubject of America.--The Nullification Question.--America misrepresentedin Europe--Rowland Stephenson in the United States.--Unworthy arts tobring America into disrepute.--Blunders of Europe in respect ofAmerica.--The Kentuckians.--Foreign Associations in theStates.--Illiberal Opinions of many Americans.--Prejudices.

LETTER XX.

The Equinox.--Storm on the Lake.--Chase of a little Boat--Chateau ofBlonay.--Drive to Lausanne.--Mont Benon.--Trip to Geneva in theWinkelried.--Improvements in Geneva.--Russian Travellers.--M. Pozzo diBorgo.--Table d'hote.--Extravagant Affirmations of aFrenchman.--Conversation with a Scotchman.--American Duels.--Visit at aSwiss Country-house.--English Customs affected in America.--SocialIntercourse in the United States.--Difference between a European and anAmerican Foot and Hand.--Violent Gale.--Sheltered position ofVevey.--Promenade.--Picturesque View.--The greatSquare.--Invitation.--Mountain Excursion.--An AmericanLieutenant.--Anecdote.--Extensive Prospect.--Chateau of Glayrole.

LETTER XXI.

Embark in the Winkelried.--Discussion with an Englishman.--TheValais.--Free Trade.--The Drance.--TerribleInundation.--Liddes.--Mountain Scenery.--A MountainBasin.--Dead-houses.--Melancholy Spectacle.--Approach ofNight.--Desolate Region.--Convent of the Great St. Bernard.--OurReception there.--Unhealthiness of the Situation.--TheSuperior.--Conversation during Supper.--Coal-mine on theMountain.--Night in the Convent.

LETTER XXII.

Sublime Desolation.--A Morning Walk.--The Col.--A Lake.--Site of a RomanTemple.--Enter Italy.--Dreary Monotony.--Return to theConvent.--Tasteless Character of the Building.--Its Origin andPurposes.--The Dead-house.--Dogs of St. Bernard.--The Chapel.--Desaixinterred here.--Fare of St. Bernard, and Deportment of the Monks.--Leavethe Convent.--Our Guide's Notion of the Americans.--Passage of Napoleonacross the Great St. Bernard.--Similar Passages in formertimes.--Transport of Artillery up the Precipices.--Napoleon's perilousAccident.--Return to Vevey.

LETTER XXIII.

Democracy in America and in Switzerland.--EuropeanPrejudices.--Influence of Property.--Nationality of the Swiss.--Want ofLocal Attachments in Americans.--Swiss Republicanism.--Political Crusadeagainst America.--Affinities between America and Russia.--Feeling of theEuropean Powers towards Switzerland.

LETTER XXIV.

The Swiss Mountain Passes.--Excursion in the neighbourhood ofVevey.--Castle of Blonay.--View from the Terrace.--Memory andHope.--Great Antiquity of Blonay.--The Knight's Hall.--Prospect from theBalcony.--Departure from Blonay.--A Modern Chateau.--Travelling onHorseback.--News from America.--Dissolution of the Union predicted.--ThePrussian Polity.--Despotism in Prussia.

LETTER XXV.

Controversy respecting America.--Conduct of AmericanDiplomatists.--_Attaches_ to American Legations.--Unworthy State ofPublic Opinion in America.

LETTER XXVI.

Approach of Winter.--The _Livret_.--Regulations respectingServants.--Servants in America.--Governments of the different Cantons ofSwitzerland.--Engagement of Mercenaries.--Population ofSwitzerland.--Physical Peculiarities of the Swiss.--Women ofSwitzerland.--Mrs. Trollope and the American Ladies.--Affected manner ofspeaking in American Women.--Patois in America.--Peculiar manner ofSpeaking at Vevey.--Swiss Cupidity.

LETTER XXVII.

Departure from Vevey.--Passage down the Lake.--Arrival atGeneva.--Purchase of Jewellery.--Leave Geneva.--Ascent of theJura.--Alpine Views.--Rudeness at the Custom-house.--Smuggling.--ASmuggler detected.--The second Custom-house.--Final View of MontBlanc.--Re-enter France.--Our luck at the Post-house in Dole.--A ScotchTraveller.--Nationality of the Scotch.--Road towards Troyes.--Source ofthe Seine.

LETTER XXVIII.

Miserable Inn.--A French Bed.--Free Trade.--French Relics.--CrossRoads.--Arrival at Lagrange.--Reception by General Lafayette.--TheNullification Strife.--Conversation with Lafayette.--His Opinion as to aSeparation of the Union in America.--The Slave Question.--Stability ofthe Union.--Style of living at La Grange.--Pap.--French Manners, and theFrench Cuisine.--Departure from La Grange.--Return to Paris.

RESIDENCE

IN FRANCE.

LETTER I.

Influence of the late Revolution in France.--General Lafayette--Sketchof his Private Life.--My visits to him.--His opinion of Louis XVI.--Mr.Morris and Mr. Crawford.--Duplicity of Louis XVIII.--Charles X.--MarieAntoinette.--Legitimacy of the Duc de Bordeaux.--Discovery of the Plotof 1822.--Lafayette's conduct on that occasion.--A negro Spy.--GeneralKnyphausen.--Louis-Philippe and Lafayette.--My visit to Court.--TheKing, the Queen, Madame Adelaide, and the Princesses.--MarshalJourdan.--The Duke of Orleans.--Interview with the King.--"_Adieul'Amerique!_"--Conversation with Lafayette.--The _JusteMilieu_.--Monarchy not inconsistent with Republican Institutions.--Partyin favour of the Duc de Bordeaux.

Paris, February, 1832.

Dear ----,

Your speculations concerning the influence of the late revolution, onthe social habits of the French, are more ingenious than true. While themass of this nation has obtained less than they had a right to expect bythe severe political convulsions they have endured, during the lastforty years, they have, notwithstanding, gained something in theirrights; and, what is of far more importance, they have gained in abetter appreciation of those rights, as well as in the knowledge of themeans to turn them to a profitable and practical account. The end willshow essential improvements in their condition, or rather the presenttime shows it already. The change in polite society has been lessfavourable, although even this is slowly gaining in morals, and in ahealthier tone of thought. No error can be greater, than that ofbelieving France has endured so much, without a beneficial return.

In making up my opinions of the old regime, I have had constant recourseto General Lafayette for information. The conversations and anecdotesalready sent you, will have prepared you for the fine tone, and perfectcandour, with which he speaks even of his bitterest enemies; nor can Iremember, in the many confidential and frank communications with which Ihave been favoured, a single instance where, there has been the smallestreason to suspect he has viewed men through the medium of personalantipathies and prejudices. The candour and simplicity of his opinionsform beautiful features in his character; and the _bienseance_ of hismind (if one may use such an expression) throws a polish over hisharshest strictures, that is singularly adapted to obtain credit for hisjudgment.

Your desire to know more of the private life of this extraordinary man,is quite natural; but he has been so long before the public, that it isnot easy to say anything new. I may, however, give you a trait or two,to amuse you.

I have seen more of him this winter than the last, owing to thecircumstance of a committee of Americans, that have been appointed toadminister succour to the exiled Poles, meeting weekly at my house, andit is rare indeed that he is not present on these benevolent occasions.He has discontinued his own soirees, too; and, having fewer demands onhis time, through official avocations, I gain admittance to him duringhis simple and quiet dinners, whenever it is asked.

These dinners, indeed, are our usual hours of meeting, for theoccupations of the General, in the Chamber, usually keep him engaged inthe morning; nor am I commonly at leisure, myself, until about this hourof the day. In Paris, every one dines, nominally, at six; but thedeputies being often detained a little later, whenever I wish to seehim, I hurry from my own table, and generally reach the Rue d'Anjou insufficient season to find him still at his.

On quitting the Hotel de l'Etat Major, after being dismissed sounceremoniously from the command of the National Guard, Lafayettereturned to his own neat but simple lodgings in the Rue d'Anjou. Thehotel, itself, is one of some pretensions, but his apartments, thoughquite sufficient for a single person, are not among the best itcontains, lying on the street, which is rarely or never the case withthe principal rooms. The passage to them communicates with the greatstaircase, and the door is one of those simple, retired entrances that,in Paris, so frequently open on the abodes of some of the mostillustrious men of the age. Here have I seen princes, marshals, anddignitaries of all degrees, ringing for admission, no one appearing tothink of aught but the great man within. These things are permittedhere, where the mind gets accustomed to weigh in the balance all thedifferent claims to distinction; but it would scarcely do in a country,in which the pursuit of money is the sole and engrossing concern oflife; a show of expenditure becoming necessary to maintain it.

The apartments of Lafayette consist of a large ante-chamber, two salons,and an inner room, where he usually sits and writes, and in which, oflate, he has had his bed. These rooms are _en suite_, and communicate,laterally, with one or two more, and the offices. His sole attendants intown, are the German valet, named Bastien, who accompanied him in hislast visit to America, the footman who attends him with the carriage,and the coachman (there may be a cook, but I never saw a female in theapartments). Neither wears a livery, although all his appointments,carriages, horses, and furniture, are those of a gentleman. One thinghas struck me as a little singular. Notwithstanding his strongattachment to America and to her usages, Lafayette, while the practiceis getting to be common in Paris, has not adopted the use of carpets. Ido not remember to have seen one, at La Grange, or in town.

When I show myself at the door, Bastien, who usually acts as porter, andwho has become quite a diplomatist in these matters, makes a sign ofassent, and intimates that the General is at dinner. Of late, hecommonly dispenses with the ceremony of letting it be known who hascome, but I am at once ushered into the bed-room. Here I find Lafayetteseated at a table, just large enough to contain one cover and a singledish; or a table, in other words, so small as to be covered with anapkin. His little white lap-dog is his only companion. As it is alwaysunderstood that I have dined, no ceremony is used, but I take a seat atthe chimney corner, while he goes on with his dinner. His meals arequite frugal, though good; a _poulet roti_ invariably making one dish.There are two or three removes, a dish at a time, and the dinner usuallyconcludes with some preserves or dried fruits, especially dates, ofwhich he is extremely fond. I generally come in for one or two of thelatter.

All this time, the conversation is on what has transpired in theChambers during the day, the politics of Europe, nullification inAmerica, or the gossip of the chateau, of which he is singularly wellinformed, though he has ceased to go there.

The last of these informal interviews with General Lafayette, was one ofpeculiar interest. I generally sit but half an hour, leaving him to goto his evening engagements, which, by the way, are not frequent; but, onthis occasion, he told me to remain, and I passed nearly two hours withhim.

We chatted a good deal of the state of society under the old regime.Curious to know his opinions of their private characters, I asked a goodmany questions concerning the royal family. Louis XVI. he described asa-well-meaning man, addicted a little too much to the pleasures of thetable, but who would have done well enough had he not been surroundedby bad advisers. I was greatly surprised by one of his remarks. "LouisXVI," observed Lafayette, "owed his death as much to the bad advice ofGouverneur Morris, as to any one other thing." You may be certain I didnot let this opinion go unquestioned; for, on all other occasions, inspeaking of Mr. Morris, his language had been kind and even grateful. Heexplained himself, by adding, that Mr. Morris, coming from a countrylike America, was listened to with great respect, and that on alloccasions he gave his opinions against democracy, advising resistance,when resistance was not only too late but dangerous. He did not call inquestion the motives of Mr. Morris, to which he did full justice, butmerely affirmed that he was a bad adviser. He gave me to understand thatthe representatives of America had not always been faithful to thepopular principle, and even went into details that it would be improperfor me to repeat. I have mentioned this opinion of Mr. Morris, becausehis aristocratical sentiments were no secret, because they were mingledwith no expressions of personal severity, and because I have heard themfrom other quarters. He pronounced a strong eulogium on the conduct ofMr. Crawford, which he said was uniformly such as became an Americanminister.

There is nothing, however, novel in these instances, of ourrepresentatives proving untrue to the prominent feeling of the country,on the subject of popular rights. It is the subject of very frequentcomment in Europe, and sometimes of complaint on the part of those whoare struggling for what they conceive to be their just privileges; manyof them having told me, personally, that our agents frequently standmaterially in their way.

Louis XVIII, Lafayette pronounced to be the _falsest_ man he had evermet with; to use his own expression, "_l'homme le plus faux_." He gavehim credit for a great deal of talent, but added that his duplicity wasinnate, and not the result of his position, for it was known to hisyoung associates, in early youth, and that they used to say amongthemselves, as young men, and in their ordinary gaieties, that it wouldbe unsafe to confide in the Comte de Provence.

Of Charles X he spoke kindly, giving him exactly a different character.He thought him the most honest of the three brothers, though quiteunequal to the crisis in which he had been called to reign. He believedhim sincere in his religious professions, and thought the charge of hisbeing a professed Jesuit by no means improbable.

Marie Antoinette he thought an injured woman. On the subject of herreputed gallantries he spoke cautiously, premising that, as an American,I ought to make many allowances for a state of society, that wasaltogether unknown in our country. Treating this matter with thediscrimination of a man of the world, and the delicacy of a gentleman,he added that he entirely exonerated her from all of the coarse chargesthat had proceeded from vulgar clamour, while he admitted that she hadbetrayed a partiality for a young Swede[1] that was, at least,indiscreet for one in her situation, though he had no reason to believeher attachment had led her to the length of criminality.

[Footnote 1: A Count Koningsmarke.]

I asked his opinion concerning the legitimacy of the Duc de Bordeaux,but he treated the rumour to the contrary, as one of those miserabledevices to which men resort to effect the ends of party, and asaltogether unworthy of serious attention.

I was amused with the simplicity with which he spoke of his own effortsto produce a change of government, during the last reign. On thissubject he had been equally frank even before the recent revolution,though there would have been a manifest impropriety in my repeating whathad then passed between us. This objection is now removed in part, and Imay recount one of his anecdotes, though I can never impart to it thecool and quiet humour with which it was related. We were speaking of theattempt of 1822, or the plot which existed in the army. In reply to aquestion of mine, he said--"Well, I was to have commanded in thatrevolution, and when the time came, I got into my carriage, without apassport, and drove across the country to ----, where I obtainedpost-horses, and proceeded as fast as possible towards ----. At ----, acourier met me, with the unhappy intelligence that our plot wasdiscovered, and that several of our principal agents were arrested. Iwas advised to push for the frontier, as fast as I could. But we turnedround in the road, and I went to Paris, and took my seat in the Chamberof Deputies. They looked very queer, and a good deal surprised when theysaw me, and I believe they were in great hopes that I had run away. Theparty of the ministers were loud in their accusations against theopposition for encouraging treason, and Perier and Constant, and therest of them, made indignant appeals against such unjust accusations. Itook a different course. I went into the tribune, and invited theministers to come and give a history of my political life; of my changesand treasons, as they called them; and said that when they had gotthrough, I would give the character and history of theirs. This settledthe matter, for I heard no more from them." I inquired if he had notfelt afraid of being arrested and tried. "Not much," was his answer."They knew I denied the right of foreigners to impose a government onFrance, and they also knew they had not kept faith with France under thecharter. I made no secret of my principles, and frequently put lettersunsealed into the post office, in which I had used the plainest languageabout the government. On the whole, I believe they were more afraid ofme than I was of them."

It is impossible to give an idea, in writing, of the pleasant manner hehas of relating these things--a manner that receives additional piquancyfrom his English, which, though good, is necessarily broken. He usuallyprefers the English in such conversations.

"By the way," he suddenly asked me, "where was the idea of Harvey Birch,in the Spy, found?" I told him that the thought had been obtained froman anecdote of the revolution, related to me by Governor Jay, some yearsbefore the book was written. He laughingly remarked that he could havesupplied the hero of a romance, in the person of a negro named Harry (Ibelieve, though the name has escaped me), who acted as a spy, both forhim and Lord Cornwallis, during the time he commanded against thatofficer in Virginia. This negro he represented as being true to theAmerican cause, and as properly belonging to his service, thoughpermitted occasionally to act for Lord Cornwallis, for the sake ofgaining intelligence. After the surrender of the latter, he called onGeneral Lafayette, to return a visit. Harry was in an anteroom cleaninghis master's boots, as Lord Cornwallis entered. "Ha! Master Harry,"exclaimed the latter, "you are here, are you?" "Oh, yes, masserCornwallis--muss try to do little for de country," was the answer. Thisnegro, he said, was singularly clever and bold, and of sterlingpatriotism!

He made me laugh with a story, that he said the English officers hadtold him of General Knyphausen, who commanded the Hessian mercenaries,in 1776. This officer, a rigid martinet, knew nothing of the sea, andnot much more of geography. On the voyage between England and America,he was in the ship of Lord Howe, where he passed several uncomfortableweeks, the fleet having an unusually long passage, on account of the badsailing of some of the transports. At length Knyphausen could containhimself no longer, but marching stiffly up to the admiral one day, hecommenced with--"My lord, I know it is the duty of a soldier to besubmissive at sea, but, being entrusted with the care of the troops ofHis Serene Highness, my master, I feel it my duty just to inquire, ifit be not possible, that during some of the dark nights, we have latelyhad, _we may have sailed past America_?"

I asked him if he had been at the chateau lately. His reply was verybrief and expressive. "The king denies my account of the programme ofthe Hotel de Ville, and we stand in the position of two gentlemen, who,in substance, have given each other the lie. Circumstances prevent ourgoing to the Bois de Boulogne to exchange shots," he added, smiling,"but they also prevent our exchanging visits." I then ventured to saythat I had long foreseen what would be the result of the friendship ofLouis-Philippe, and, for the first time, in the course of ourconversations, I adverted to my own visit to the palace in his company,an account of which I will extract, for your benefit, from mynote-book.[2]

[Footnote 2: The period referred to was in 1830.]

* * * * *

In the morning I received a note from General Lafayette, in which heinformed me that Mr. M'Lane, who is here on a visit from London, wasdesirous of being presented; that there was a reception in the evening,at which he intended to introduce the minister to England, Mr. Rives nothaving yet received his new credentials, and, of course, not appearingin matters of ceremony. General Lafayette pressed me so strongly to beof the party, in compliment to Mr. M'Lane, that, though but anindifferent courtier, and though such a visit was contrary to my quiethabits, I could do nothing but comply.

At the proper hour, General Lafayette had the good nature to call andtake me up, and we proceeded, at once, for Mr. M'Lane. With thisgentleman we drove to the Palais Royal, my old brother officer, Mr.T----, who was included in the arrangement, following in his owncarriage.

We found the inner court crowded, and a throng about the entrance tothe great staircase; but the appearance of Lafayette cleared the way,and there was a movement in the crowd which denoted his great personalpopularity. I heard the words "_des Americains_" passing from one toanother, showing how completely he was identified with us and ourprinciples, in the public mind. One or two of the younger officers ofthe court were at the foot of the stairs to receive him, though whethertheir presence was accidental or designed, I cannot say; but I suspectthe latter. At all events the General was received with the profoundestrespect, and the most smiling assiduity.

The ante-chamber was already crowded, but following our leader, hispresence cleared the way for us, until he got up quite near to thedoors, where some of the most distinguished men of France werecollected. I saw many in the throng whom I knew, and the first minute ortwo were passed in nods of recognition. My attention was, however, soonattracted to a dialogue between Marshal Soult and Lafayette, that wascarried on with the most perfect _bonhomie_ and simplicity. I did nothear the commencement, but found they were speaking of their legs, whichboth seemed to think the worse for wear. "But you have been wounded inthe leg, monsieur?" observed Lafayette. "This limb was a little _maltraite_ at Genoa," returned the marshal, looking down at a leg that hada very game look: "but you, General, you too, were hurt in America?""Oh! that was nothing; it happened more than fifty years ago, and _thenit was in a good cause_--it was the fall and the fracture that made melimp." Just at this moment, the great doors flew open, and this _quasi_republican court standing arrayed before us, the two old soldiers limpedforward.

The King stood near the door, dressed as a General of the NationalGuards, entirely without decorations, and pretty well tricoloured. TheQueen, Madame Adelaide, the Princesses, and several of the children,were a little farther removed, the two former standing in front, andthe latter being grouped behind them. But one or two ladies werepresent, nor did I see anything at the commencement of the evening ofthe Ducs d'Orleans and de Nemours.

Lafayette was one of the first that entered, and of course we kept nearhim. The King advanced to meet him with an expression of pleasure--Ithought it studied--but they shook hands quite cordially. We were thenpresented by name, and each of us had the honour of shaking hands, ifthat can be considered an honour, which fell to the share of quite halfof those who entered. The press was so great that there was noopportunity to say anything. I believe we all met with the usualexpressions of welcome, and there the matter ended.

Soon after we approached the Queen, with whom our reception had a moremeasured manner. Most of those who entered did little more than make adistant bow to this group, but the Queen manifesting a desire to saysomething to our party, Mr. M'Lane and myself approached them. She firstaddressed my companion in French, a language he did not speak, and I wasobliged to act as interpreter. But the Queen instantly said sheunderstood English, though she spoke it badly, and begged he wouldaddress her in his own tongue. Madame Adelaide seemed more familiar withour language. But the conversation was necessarily short, and not worthrepeating.

Queen Amelie is a woman of a kind, and, I think, intelligentcountenance. She has the Bourbon rather than the Austrian outline offace. She seemed anxious to please, and in her general air and carriagehas some resemblance to the Duchess of St. Leu.[3] She has thereputation of being an excellent wife and mother, and, really, not tofall too precipitately into the vice of a courtier, she appears as ifshe may well deserve it. She is thin, but graceful, and I can wellimagine that she has been more than pretty in her youth.

[Footnote 3: Hortense.]

I do not remember a more frank, intelligent, and winning countenancethan that of Madame Adelaide, who is the King's sister. She has littlebeauty left, except that of expression; but this must have made herhandsome once, as it renders her singularly attractive now. Her mannerwas less nervous than that of the Queen, and I should think her mind hadmore influence over her exterior.

The Princess Louise (the Queen of Belgium) and the Princess Marie arepretty, with the quiet subdued manner of well-bred young persons. Thefirst is pale, has a strikingly Bourbon face, resembling the profiles onthe French coins; while the latter has an Italian and classical outlineof features, with a fine colour.

They were all dressed with great simplicity; scarcely in high dinnerdress; the Queen and Madame Adelaide wearing evening hats. ThePrincesses, as is uniformly the case with unmarried French girls ofrank, were without any ornaments, wearing their hair in the usualmanner.

After the ceremonies of being presented were gone through, I amusedmyself with examining the company. This was a levee, not a drawing-room,and there were no women among the visitors. The men, who did not appearin uniform, were in common evening dress, which has degenerated of lateinto black stocks and trousers.

Accident brought me next to an old man, who had exactly thatrevolutionary air which has become so familiar to us by the engravingsof Bonaparte and his generals that were made shortly after the Italiancampaign. The face was nearly buried in neckcloth, the hair was long andwild, and the coat was glittering, but ill-fitting and stiff. It was,however, the coat of a _marechal_; and, what rendered it still moresingular, it was entirely without orders. I was curious to know who thisrelic of 1797 might be; for, apart from his rank, which was betrayed byhis coat, he was so singularly ugly as scarcely to appear human. Oninquiry it proved to be Marshal Jourdan.

There was some amusement in watching the different individuals who cameto pay their court to the new dynasty. Many were personally andfamiliarly known to me as very loyal subjects of the last reign;soldiers who would not have hesitated to put Louis-Philippe _au fil del'epee_, three months before, at the command of Charles X. But timeswere changed. They now came to show themselves to the new sovereign;most of them to manifest their disposition to be put in the way ofpreferment, some to reconnoitre, others to conceal their disaffection,and all to subserve their own interests. It was laughably easy todiscern who were confident of their reception by being of the rulingparty, who distrusted, and who were indifferent. The last class wassmall. A general officer, whom I personally knew, looked like one whohad found his way into a wrong house by mistake. He was a Bonapartist byhis antecedents, and in his true way of thinking; but accident hadthrown him into the hands of the Bourbons, and he had now come to seewhat might be gleaned from the House of Orleans. His reception was notflattering, and I could only compare the indecision and wavering of hismanner to that of a regiment that falters before an unexpected volley.

After amusing ourselves some time in the great throng, which was densestnear the King, we went towards a secondary circle that had formed inanother part of the room, where the Duke of Orleans had appeared. He wasconversing with Lafayette, who immediately presented us all insuccession. The Prince is a genteel, handsome young man, with a facemuch more Austrian than that of any of his family, so far as one canjudge of what his younger brothers are likely to be hereafter. In form,stature, and movements, he singularly resembles W----, and there is alsoa good deal of likeness in the face, though in this particular thelatter has the advantage. He was often taken for the Duc de Chartresduring our former residence at Paris. Our reception was gracious, theheir to the throne appearing anxious to please every one.

The amusing part of the scene is to follow. Fatigued with standing, wehad got chairs in a corner of the room, behind the throng, where thediscourtesy of being seated might escape notice. The King soon afterwithdrew, and the company immediately began to go away. Three-fourths,perhaps, were gone, when an aide-de-camp came up to us and inquired ifwe were not the three Americans who had been presented by GeneralLafayette? Being answered in the affirmative, he begged us to accompanyhim. He led us near a door at the other end of the _salle_, a room ofgreat dimensions, where we found General Lafayette in waiting. The aide,or officer of the court, whichever might be his station, passed throughthe door, out of which the King immediately came. It appeared to me asif the General was not satisfied with our first reception, and wished tohave it done over again. The King looked grave, not to say discontented,and I saw, at a glance, that he could have dispensed with this extraattention. Mr. M'Lane standing next the door, he addressed a few wordsto him in English, which he speaks quite readily, and without muchaccent: indeed he said little to any one else, and the few words that hedid utter were exceedingly general and unmeaning. Once he got as far asT----, whom he asked if he came from New York, and he looked hard at me,who stood farther from the door, mumbled something, bowed to us all, andwithdrew. I was struck with his manner, which seemed vexed andunwilling, and the whole thing appeared to me to be awkward anduncomfortable. I thought it a bad omen for the influence of the General.

By this time the great _salle_ was nearly empty, and we moved offtogether to find our carriages. General Lafayette preceded us, ofcourse, and as he walked slowly, and occasionally stopped to converse,we were among the last in the ante-chamber. In passing into the last orouter ante-chamber, the General stopped nearly in the door to speak tosome one. Mr. M'Lane and Mr. T---- being at his side, they so nearlystopped the way that I remained some distance in the rear, in order notto close it entirely. My position would give an ordinary observer reasonto suppose that I did not belong to the party. A young officer of thecourt (I call them aides, though, I believe, they were merelysubstitutes for chamberlains, dignitaries to which this republican reignhas not yet given birth), was waiting in the outer room to pass, butappeared unwilling to press too closely on a group of which GeneralLafayette formed the principal person. He fidgeted and chafed evidently,but still kept politely at a distance. After two or three minutes theparty moved on, but I remained stationary, watching the result. Room wasno sooner made than the officer brushed past, and gave vent to hisfeelings by saying, quite loudly and distinctly, "_Adieu, l'Amerique_!"

It is a pretty safe rule to believe that in the tone of courtiers isreflected the feeling of the monarch. The attention to General Lafayettehad appeared to me as singularly affected and forced, and the manner ofthe King anything but natural; and several little occurrences during theevening had tended to produce the impression that the real influence ofthe former, at the palace, might be set down as next to nothing. I neverhad any faith in a republican king from the commencement, but this nearview of the personal intercourse between the parties served to persuademe that General Lafayette had been the dupe of his own good faith andkind feelings.

In descending the great stairs I mentioned the occurrence just relatedto Mr. M'Lane, adding, that I thought the days of our friend werenumbered, and that a few months would produce a schism between him andLouis-Philippe. Everything, at the moment, however, looked so smiling,and so much outward respect was lavished on General Lafayette, that thisopinion did not find favour with my listener, though, I believe, he sawreason to think differently, after another visit to court. We all gotinvitations to dine at the palace in a day or two.

* * * * *

I did not, however, touch upon the "_adieu l'Amerique_," with GeneralLafayette, which I have always deemed a subject too delicate to bementioned.

He startled me by suddenly putting the question, whether I thought anexecutive, in which there should be but one agent, as in the UnitedStates, or an executive, in which there should be three, or five, wouldbest suit the condition of France? Though so well acquainted with theboldness and steadiness of his views, I was not prepared to find hismind dwelling on such a subject, at the present moment. The state ofFrance, however, is certainly extremely critical, and we ought not to besurprised at the rising of the people at any moment.

I told General Lafayette, that, in my poor judgment, the questionadmitted of a good deal of controversy. Names did not signify much, butevery administration should receive its main impulses, subject to thecommon wishes and interests, from a close conformity of views, whetherthere were one incumbent or a dozen. The English system certainly made anear approach to a divided executive, but the power was so distributedas to prevent much clashing; and when things went wrong, the ministersresigned; parliament, in effect, holding the control of the executive aswell as of the legislative branches of the government. Now I did notthink France was prepared for such a polity, the French being accustomedto see a real as well as a nominal monarch, and the disposition tointrigue would, for a long time to come, render their administrationsfluctuating and insecure. A directory would either control the chambers,or be controlled by them. In the former case it would be apt to bedivided in itself; in the latter, to agitate the chambers by factionsthat would not have the ordinary outlet of majorities to restore theequilibrium.

He was of opinion himself that the expedient of a directory had notsuited the state of France. He asked me what I thought of universalsuffrage for this country. I told him, I thought it altogether unsuitedto the present condition of France. I did not attach much faith to theold theory of the necessary connexion between virtue and democracy, as acause; though it might, with the necessary limitations, follow as aneffect. A certain degree of knowledge of its uses, _action_, andobjects, was indispensable to a due exercise of the suffrage; not thatit was required every elector should be learned in the theory ofgovernments, but that he should know enough to understand the generalconnexion between his vote and his interests, and especially his rights.This knowledge was not at all difficult of attainment, in ordinarycases, when one had the means of coming at facts. In cases that admit ofargument, as in all the questions on political economy, I did not seethat any reasonable degree of knowledge made the matter much better, thecleverest men usually ranging themselves on the two extremes of allmooted questions. Concerning the right of every man, who was qualifiedto use the power, to have his interests directly represented in agovernment, it was unnecessary to speak, the only question being who hadand who had not the means to make a safe use of the right in practice.It followed from these views, that the great desiderata were toascertain what these means were.

In the present state of the world, I thought it absolutely necessarythat a man should be able to read, in order to exercise the right tovote with a prudent discretion. In countries where everybody reads,other qualifications might be trusted to, provided they were low andwithin reasonable reach of the mass; but, in a country like France, Iwould allow no man to vote until he knew how to read, if he were as richas Croesus.

I felt convinced the present system could not continue long in France.It might do for a few years, as a reaction; but when things wererestored to their natural course, it would be found that there is anunnatural union between facts that are peculiar to despotism, and factsthat are peculiarly the adjuncts of liberty; as in the provisions of theCode Napoleon, and in the liberty of the press, without naming amultitude of other discrepancies. The _juste milieu_ that he had soadmirably described[4] could not last long, but the government wouldsoon find itself driven into strong measures, or into liberal measures,in order to sustain itself. Men could no more serve "God and Mammon" inpolitics than in religion. I then related to him an anecdote that hadoccurred to myself the evening of the first anniversary of the presentreign.

[Footnote 4: When the term _juste milieu_ was first used by the King,and adopted by his followers, Lafayette said in the Chamber, that "hevery well understood what a _juste milieu_ meant, in any particularcase; it meant neither more nor less than the truth, in that particularcase: but as to a political party's always taking a middle course, underthe pretence of being in a _juste milieu_, he should liken it to adiscreet man's laying down the proposition that four and four makeeight, and a fool's crying out, 'Sir, you are wrong, for four and fourmake ten;' whereupon the advocate for the _juste milieu_ on system,would be obliged to say, 'Gentlemen, you are equally in extremes, _fourand four make nine_.'" It is the fashion to say Lafayette wanted_esprit_. This was much the cleverest thing the writer ever heard in theFrench Chambers, and, generally, he knew few men who said more wittythings in a neat and unpretending manner than General Lafayette. Indeedthis was the bias of his mind, which was little given to profoundreflections, though distinguished for a _fort bon sens_.]

On the night in question, I was in the Tuileries, with a view to see thefireworks. Taking a station a little apart from the crowd, I foundmyself under a tree alone with a Frenchman of some sixty years of age.After a short parley, my companion, as usual, mistook me for anEnglishman. On being told his error, he immediately opened aconversation on the state of things in France. He asked me if I thoughtthey would continue. I told him, no; that I thought two or three yearswould suffice to bring the present system to a close. "Monsieur," saidmy companion, "you are mistaken. It will require ten years to dispossessthose who have seized upon the government, since the last revolution.All the young men are growing up with the new notions, and in ten yearsthey will be strong enough to overturn the present order of things.Remember that I prophesy the year 1840 will see a change of governmentin France."

Lafayette laughed at this prediction, which, he said, did not quiteequal his impatience. He then alluded to the ridicule which had beenthrown upon his own idea of "A monarchy with republican institutions,"and asked me what I thought of the system. As my answer to this, as wellas to his other questions, will serve to lay before you my own opinions,which you have a right to expect from me, as a traveller rendering anaccount of what he has seen, I shall give you its substance, at length.

So far from finding anything as absurd as is commonly pretended in theplan of a "throne surrounded by republican institutions," it appears tome to be exactly the system best suited to the actual condition ofFrance. By a monarchy, however, a real monarchical government, or one inwhich the power of the sovereign is to predominate, is not to beunderstood, in this instance, but such a semblance of a monarchy asexists to-day, in England, and formerly existed in Venice and Genoaunder their Doges. la England the aristocracy notoriously rules, throughthe king, and I see no reason why in France, a constituency with a basesufficiently broad to entitle it to assume the name of a republic, mightnot rule, in its turn, in the same manner. In both cases the sovereignwould merely represent an abstraction; the sovereign power would bewielded in his name, but at the will of the constituency; he would be aparliamentary echo, to pronounce the sentiment of the legislativebodies, whenever a change of men or a change of measures becamenecessary It is very true that, under such a system, there would be noreal separation, in principle, between the legislative and the executivebranches of government; but such is to-day, and such has long been theactual condition of England, and her statesmen are fond of saving, theplan "works well." Now, although the plan does not work half as well inEngland as is pretended, except for those who more especially reap itsbenefits, simply because the legislature is not established on asufficiently popular basis, still it works better, on the whole, for thepublic, than if the system were reversed, as was formerly the case, andthe king ruled through the parliament, instead of the parliament rulingthrough the king. In France the facts are ripe for an extension of thisprinciple, in its safest and most salutary manner. The French of thepresent generation are prepared to dispense with a hereditary andpolitical aristocracy, in the first place, nothing being more odious tothem than privileged orders, and no nation, not even America, havingmore healthful practices or wiser notions on this point than themselves.The experience of the last fifteen years has shown the difficulty ofcreating an independent peerage in France, notwithstanding the effortsof the government, sustained by the example and wishes of England, havebeen steadily directed to that object. Still they have the traditionsand _prestige_ of a monarchy. Under such circumstances, I see nodifficulty in carrying out the idea of Lafayette. Indeed some suchpolity is indispensable, unless liberty is to be wholly sacrificed. Allexperience has shown that a king, who is a king in fact as well as name,is too strong for law, and the idea of restraining such a power by_principles_, is purely chimerical. He may be curtailed in hisauthority, by the force of opinion, and by extreme constructions ofthese principles; but if this be desirable, it would be better to avoidthe struggle, and begin, at once, by laying the foundation of the systemin such a way as will prevent the necessity of any change.

As respects France, a peerage, in my opinion, is neither desirable norpracticable. It is certainly possible for the king to maintain a chosenpolitical corps, as long as he can maintain himself, which shall act inhis interests and do his bidding; but it is folly to ascribe theattributes that belong to a peerage to such a body of mercenaries. Theyresemble the famous mandamus counsellors, who had so great an agency inprecipitating our own revolution, and are more likely to achieve asimilar disservice to their master than any thing else. Could theybecome really independent, to a point to render them a masculine featurein the state, they would soon, by their combinations, become too strongfor the other branches of the government, as has been the case inEngland, and France would have a "throne surrounded by aristocraticinstitutions." The popular notion that an aristocracy is necessary to amonarchy, I take it, is a gross error. A titular aristocracy, in someshape or other, is always the _consequence_ of monarchy, merely becauseit is the reflection of the sovereign's favour, policy, or caprice; but_political_ aristocracies like the peerage, have, nine times in ten,proved too strong for the monarch. France would form no exception to therule; but, as men are apt to run into the delusion of believing itliberty to strip one of power, although his mantle is to fall on thefew, I think it more than probable the popular error would be quitelikely to aid the aristocrats in effecting their object, after habit hada little accustomed the nation to the presence of such a body. This issaid, however, under the supposition that the elements of an independentpeerage could be found in France, a fact that I doubt, as has just beenmentioned..

If England can have a throne, then, surrounded by aristocraticalinstitutions, what is there to prevent France from having a throne"surrounded by republican institutions?" The word "Republic," though itdoes not exclude, does not necessarily include the idea of a democracy.It merely means a polity, in which the predominant idea is the "publicthings," or common weal, instead of the hereditary and inalienablerights of one. It would be quite practicable, therefore, to establish inFrance such an efficient constituency as would meet the latterconditions, and yet to maintain the throne, as the machinery necessary,in certain cases, to promulgate the will of this very constituency.This is all that the throne does in England, and why need it do more inFrance? By substituting then a more enlarged constituency, for theborough system of England, the idea of Lafayette would be completelyfulfilled. The reform in England, itself, is quite likely to demonstratethat his scheme was not as monstrous as has been affirmed. The throne ofFrance should be occupied as Corsica is occupied, not for theaffirmative good it does the nation, so much as to prevent harm from itsbeing occasionally vacant.

In the course of the conversation, I gave to General Lafayette thefollowing outline of the form of government I could wish to give toFrance, were I a Frenchman, and had I a voice in the matter. I give itto you on the principle already avowed, or as a traveller furnishing hisnotions of the things he has seen, and because it may aid in giving youa better insight into my views of the state of this country.

I would establish a monarchy, and Henry V. should be the monarch. Iwould select him on account of his youth, which will admit of his beingeducated in the notions necessary to his duty; and on account of hisbirth, which would strengthen his nominal government, and, by necessaryconnexion, the actual government: for I believe, that, in their hearts,and notwithstanding the professions to the contrary, nearly half ofFrance would greatly prefer the legitimate line of their ancient kingsto the actual dynasty. This point settled, I would extend the suffrageas much as facts would justify; certainly so as to include a million ora million and a half of electors. All idea of the _representation_ ofproperty should be relinquished, as the most corrupt, narrow, andvicious form of polity that has ever been devised, invariably tending toarray one portion of the community against another, and endangering thevery property it is supposed to protect. A moderate property_qualification_ might be adopted, in connexion with that ofintelligence. The present scheme in France unites, in my view of thecase, precisely the two worst features of admission to the suffrage thatcould be devised. The qualification of an elector is a given amount ofdirect contribution. This _qualification_ is so high as to amount to_representation_, and France is already so taxed as to make a diminutionof the burdens one of the first objects at which a good government wouldaim; it follows, that as the ends of liberty are attained, itsfoundations would be narrowed, and the _representation_ of propertywould be more and more assured. A simple property qualification would,therefore, I think, be a better scheme than the present.

Each department should send an allotted number of deputies, the pollsbeing distributed on the American plan. Respecting the term of service,there might arise various considerations, but it should not exceed fiveyears, and I would prefer three. The present house of peers should beconverted into a senate, its members to sit as long as the deputies. Isee no use in making the term of one body longer than the other, and Ithink it very easy to show that great injury has arisen from thepractice among ourselves. Neither do I see the advantage of having apart go out periodically; but, on the contrary, a disadvantage, as itleaves a representation of old, and, perhaps, rejected opinions, tostruggle with the opinions of the day. Such collisions have invariablyimpeded the action and disturbed the harmony of our own government. Iwould have every French elector vote for each senator; thus the localinterests would be protected by the deputies, while the senate wouldstrictly represent France. This united action would control all things,and the ministry would be an emanation of their will, of which the kingshould merely be the organ.

I have no doubt the action of our own system would be better, could wedevise some plan by which a ministry should supersede the presentexecutive. The project of Mr. Hillhouse, that of making the senatorsdraw lots annually for the office of President, is, in my opinion,better than the elective system; but it would be, in a manner, liable tothe old objection, of a want of harmony between the different branchesof the government. France has all the machinery of royalty, in herpalaces, her parks, and the other appliances of the condition; and shehas, moreover, the necessary habits and opinions, while we have neither.There is, therefore, just as much reason why France should not rejectthis simple expedient for naming a ministry, as there is for our notadopting it. Here, then, would be, at once, a "throne surrounded byrepublican institutions," and, although it would not be a throne aspowerful as that which France has at present, it would, I think, be morepermanent than one surrounded by bayonets, and leave France, herself,more powerful, in the end.

The capital mistake made in 1830, was that of establishing the _throne_before establishing the _republic_; in trusting to _men_ instead oftrusting to _institutions_.

I do not tell you that Lafayette assented to all that I said. He hadreason for the impracticability of getting aside the personal interestswhich would be active in defeating such a reform, that involved detailsand a knowledge of character to which I had nothing to say; and, asrespects the Duc de Bordeaux, he affirmed that the reign of the Bourbonswas over in France. The country was tired of them. It may appearpresumptuous in a foreigner to give an opinion against such highauthority; but, "what can we reason but from what we know?" and truthcompels me to say, I cannot subscribe to this opinion. My ownobservation, imperfect though it be, has led to a different conclusion.I believe there are thousands, even among those who throng theTuileries, who would hasten to throw off the mask at the first seriousmisfortune that should befall the present dynasty, and who would rangethemselves on the side of what is called legitimacy. In respect toparties, I think the republicans the boldest, in possession of the mosttalents compared to numbers, and the least numerous; the friends of theKing (active and passive) the least decided, and the least connected byprinciple, though strongly connected by a desire to prosecute theirtemporal interests, and more numerous than the republicans; the Carlistsor _Henriquinquists_ the most numerous, and the most generally, butsecretly, sustained by the rural population, particularly in the westand south.

Lafayette frankly admitted, what all now seem disposed to admit, that itwas a fault not to have made sure of the institutions before the Kingwas put upon the throne. He affirmed, however, it was much easier toassert the wisdom of taking this precaution, than to have adopted it infact. The world, I believe, is in error about most of the politicalevents that succeeded the three days.

LETTER II.

The Cholera in Paris.--Its frightful ravages.--Desertion of the city--Mydetermination to remain.--Deaths in the higher classes.--Unexpectedarrival and retreat.--Praiseworthy conduct of the Authorities.--TheCholera caricatured!--Invitation from an English General.--Atmosphericalappearance denoting the arrival of the Cholera.--Lord RobertFitzgerald.--Dinner at the house of Madame de B----.

Dear ----,

We have had little to occupy us since my last letter, but the cholera,which alighted in the heart of this great and crowded metropolis like abomb. Since the excursion on the frontiers last year, and our success inescaping the quarantine, I had thought little of this scourge, until thesubject was introduced at my own table by a medical man who was amongthe guests. He cautiously informed us that there were unpleasantconjectures among the faculty on the subject, and that he was fearfulParis was not to go unscathed. When apart, he privately added, that hehad actually seen a case, which he could impute to no other disease butthat of Asiatic cholera.

The next day a few dark hints were given in the journals, and, withfrightful rapidity, reports followed that raised the daily deaths tonear a thousand. The change in the appearance of the town was magical,for the strangers generally fled, while most of the _habitues_ of thestreets in our immediate vicinity were soon numbered with the dead.There was a succession of apple-women seated at the corners, between theRue St. Dominique and the Pont Royal, with whose faces I had becomeintimate in the course of P----'s traffic, as we passed to and fro,between the hotel and the Tuileries. Every one of these disappeared; thelast, I was told, dropping from her chair, and dying before those whocame to her aid had reached the nearest hospital.

One case, among multitudes, will serve to give you a faint idea of thesituation of Paris, at this moment of severe affliction. Returning froma walk through the deserted streets one morning, I saw a smallcollection of people around the _porte-cochere_ of our hotel. Amatchseller had been seized with the disease, at the gate, and was thensustained on one of the stone seats, which are commonly used by theservants. I had her carried info the court, and made such applicationsas had been recommended by the faculty. The patient was a robust womanof middle age, accompanied by her mother, both having come in from adistant village, to raise a few sous by selling matches. In making theapplications, I had occasion to observe the means by which these poorpeople sustain life. Their food consisted of fragments of hard driedbread, that had been begged, or bought, in the course of their progress.

While two or three of us were busied about the daughter, the motherknelt on the pavement, and, with streaming eyes, prayed for her child,for us, and for herself. There was something indescribably touching inthis display of strong natural ties, between those who were plunged sodeep in misery. A piece of five francs was put into the hands of the oldwoman, but, though she blessed the donor, her look was not averted aninstant from the agony depicted in her daughter's face, nor did sheappear conscious of what she possessed, a moment after. The carriersfrom the hospital bore the sick woman away, and the mother promised toreturn, in a day or two, to let me know the result. Not appearing, aninquiry was made at the hospital, and the answer was, that they wereboth dead!

In this manner some ten or fifteen thousand were swept away in a fewweeks. Not only hotels, but, in some instances, nearly whole streetswere depopulated. As every one fled, who could with convenience orpropriety quit the town, you may feel surprised that we chose to remain.When the deaths increased to eight or nine hundred a day, and our ownquarter began to be visited, I felt it to be a duty to those under mycharge, to retire to some of the places without the limits of thedisease. The trunks were packed, the carriage was in the court, and mypassports were signed, when A---- was suddenly taken ill. Although thedisease was not the cholera, I began to calculate the chances of any oneof us being seized, myself for instance, in one of the villages of theenvirons, and the helpless condition of a family of females in a foreigncountry, under such circumstances. The result was a determination toremain, and to trust to Providence. We have consequently staid in ourapartments through it all, although two slight cases have occurred inthe hotel, and hundreds around it.

The manner in which individuals known to us have vanished, as it were,from before our eyes, has been shockingly sudden. To-day the report maybe that the milkman is gone; yesterday it was the butcher's boy; theday before the poulterer, and presently a new servant appears with amessage from a friend, and on inquiring for his predecessor, we learnthat he is dead. Ten or fifteen cases of this sort have occurred amongthose with whom we are in constant and immediate connexion.

The deaths in the higher classes, at first, were comparatively few, butof late several of the most distinguished men of France have beenseized. Among them are M. Perier, the prime minister, and the GeneralLamarque. Prince Castelcicala, too, the Neapolitan Ambassador, is dead,in our neighbourhood; as, indeed, are very many others. There is oneshort street quite near us, out of which, it is said, between seventyand eighty dead have been carried. The situation of all this faubourg islow, and that of the street particularly so.

Dr. S----, of North Carolina, who, with several other young physicians,has done credit to himself by his self-devotion and application, broughtin the report of the appearance of things, once or twice a week, judgingof the state of the disease more from the aspect of the hospitals, thanfrom the published returns, which are necessarily and, perhaps,designedly, imperfect. He thinks of the first hundred that were admittedat the Hotel Dieu, all but one died, and that one he does not think wasa case of Asiatic cholera at all.

All this time, the more frequented streets of Paris presented, in theheight of the usual season too, the most deserted aspect. I havefrequently walked on the terrace of the Tuileries when there were not adozen others in the whole garden, and driven from my own hotel in theRue St. Dominique to the Place Vendome without meeting half a dozenvehicles, including _fiacres_ and _cabriolets de place_.

I was returning one day from the Rue de la Paix, on foot, during theheight of the disease, at the time when this gay and magnificent part ofthe town looked peculiarly deserted. There was scarcely a soul in thestreet but the _laquais de place_, the _garcons_, and the chambermaidsof the public hotels, that abound in this quarter. These were at thegateways, with folded arms, a picture in themselves of the alteredcondition of the town. Two travelling carriages drove in from the Rue deRivoli, and there was at once a stir among those who are so completelydependent on travellers for their bread. "_On part_" was, at first, thecommon and mournful call from one group to another, until the mud on thecarriage-wheels caught the attention of some one, who cried out "_Onarrive_!" The appearance of the strangers under such circumstances,seemed to act like a charm. I felt no little surprise at seeing them,and more, when a hand beckoned to me from a carriage window. It was Mr.H----, of New York, an old schoolfellow, and a friend of whom we hadseen a good deal during our travels in Europe. He had just come fromEngland, with his family, and appeared astonished to find Paris sodeserted. He told me that Mr. Van Buren was in the other carriage. Hehad chosen an unfortunate moment for his visit. I went to see the H----snext morning, and it was arranged that they should come and pass thesucceeding day in the Rue St. Dominique; but they disappointed us. Theday following I got a letter from H----, dated Amiens, written on hisway to England! They had been imprudent in coming, and wise in hurryingaway from the frightful scene. I believe that Mr. Van Buren remained buta day or two.

Although most of our acquaintances quitted the town, a few thought itsafer to remain in their own comfortable apartments, than to run thehazards of travelling; for, in a short time, most of the north of Francewas suffering under the same grievous affliction. The authoritiesconducted themselves well, and there have been very many instances ofnoble self-devotion, on the part of private individuals, the Frenchcharacter never appearing to better advantage. In this respect,notwithstanding the general impression to the contrary, I am inclinedto believe, after a good deal of inquiry, that Paris has acquitteditself better than London. The French, certainly, are less disposed, asa rule, to "hide their light under a bushel," than most other people;but, on the spot and a looker-on, my respect for their feelings andphilanthropy has been greatly raised by their conduct during thisterrible calamity.

Notwithstanding the horror of the disease, some of the more prominenttraits of national character have shown themselves lately. Among otherthings, the artists have taken to caricaturing the cholera! One gets tobe so hardened by exposure, as to be able to laugh at even these proofsof moral obtuseness. Odd enough traits of character are developed byseeing men under such trying circumstances. During one of the worstperiods of the disease, I met a countryman in the street, who, thoughotherwise a clever man, has the weakness to think the democracy ofAmerica its greatest blot. I asked him why he remained in Paris, havingno family, nor any sufficient inducement? "Oh," said he, "it is adisease that only kills the rabble: I feel no concern--do you?" I toldhim that, under my peculiar circumstances, I felt a great deal ofuneasiness, though not enough to make an unreflecting flight. A few daysafterwards I missed him, and, on inquiry, learned that he had fled. Some_nobleman_ had died in our faubourg, when he and one of a fellowfeeling, finding a taint "between the wind and their nobility,"forthwith beat a retreat!

During the height of the malady, an old English general officer, who hadserved in India, and who was now residing near us, sent me an invitationto dinner. Tired of seeing no one, I went. Here everything was astranquil as if we were living in the purest atmosphere in Europe. Sir----, my host, observed that he had got seasoned in India, and that hebelieved _good living_ one of the best preventives against the disease.The Count de ---- came in just before dinner was announced, andwhispered to me that some twelve or fifteen hundred had been buried theprevious day, although less than a thousand had been reported. Thisgentleman told a queer anecdote, which he said came from veryrespectable authority, and which he gave as he had heard it. About tendays before the cholera appeared, a friend of his had accompanied one ofthe Polish generals, who are now in Paris, a short distance into thecountry to dine. On quitting the house, the Pole stopped to gazeintently at the horizon. His companion inquired what he saw, when,pointing to a hazy appearance in the atmosphere, of rather an unusualkind, the other said, "You will have the cholera here in less than tendays; such appearances always preceded it in the North." As M. de ----observed, "I tell it as I heard it."

Sir ---- did me the favour, on that occasion, to introduce me to a mildgentleman-like old man, who greatly resembled one of the quiet oldschool of our own, which is so fast disappearing before the bustling,fussy, money-getting race of the day. It was Lord Robert Fitzgerald, abrother of the unfortunate Lord Edward, and the brother of whom he sopleasantly speaks in his natural and amiable letters, as "Plenipo Bob."This gentleman is since dead, having, as I hear, fallen a victim to thecholera.

I went to one other dinner, during this scene of destruction, given byMadame de B----, a woman who has so much vogue, as to assemble, in herhouse, people of the most conflicting opinions and opposite characters.On this occasion, I was surprised to hear from Marshal ----, one of theguests, that many believe the cholera to be contagious. That such anopinion should prevail among the mass, was natural enough, but I was notprepared to hear it from so high a quarter.

A gentleman mentioned, at this dinner, that the destruction among theporters had been fearful. A friend of his was the proprietor of fivehotels, and the porters of all are dead!

LETTER III.

Insecurity of the Government.--Louis-Philippe and thePear.--Caricatures.--Ugliness of the Public Men of France.--The Duke deValmy.--Care-worn aspect of Society under the New Regime.--Controversyin France respecting the Cost of Government in America.--Conduct ofAmerican Agents in Europe.

Dear ----,

The government is becoming every day less secure, and while it holdslanguage directly to the contrary, it very well knows it cannot dependon the attachment of the nation. It has kept faith with no one, and themass looks coldly on, at the political agitation that is excited, in allquarters, by the Carlists and the republicans. The bold movement of theDuchess of Berri, although it has been unwise and unreflecting, hasoccasioned a good deal of alarm, and causes great uneasiness in thiscabinet.[5]

[Footnote 5: Louis-Philippe has been more singularly favoured by purelyfortuitous events than, probably, ever fell to the fortune of one in hissituation. The death of the Duke of Reichstadt, the arrest and peculiarposition of the Duchess of Berri, the failure of the different attemptsto assassinate and seize him, and the sudden death of the young NapoleonBonaparte, in Italy (the son of Louis), are among the number.]

In a country where the cholera could not escape being caricatured, youwill readily imagine that the King has fared no better. The lower partof the face of Louis-Philippe is massive, while his forehead, withoutbeing mean, narrows in a way to give the outline a shape not unlike thatof a pear. An editor of one of the publications of caricatures being ontrial for a libel, in his defence, produced a large pear, in order toillustrate his argument, which ran as follows:--People fancied they sawa resemblance in some one feature of a caricature to a particular thing;this thing, again, might resemble another thing; that thing a third;and thus from one to another, until the face of some distinguishedindividual might be reached. He put it to the jury whether such forcedconstructions were safe. "This, gentlemen," he continued, "is a commonpear, a fruit well known to all of you. By culling here, and here,"using his knife as he spoke, "something like a resemblance to a humanface is obtained: by clipping here, again, and shaping there, one gets aface that some may fancy they know; and should I, hereafter, publish anengraving of a pear, why everybody will call it a caricature of a man!"You will understand that, by a dexterous use of the knife, such ageneral resemblance to the countenance of the King was obtained, that itwas instantly recognised. The man was rewarded for his cleverness by anacquittal, and, since that time, by an implied convention, a rude sketchof a pear is understood to allude to the King. The fruit abounds in amanner altogether unusual for the season, and, at this moment, I makelittle doubt, that some thousands of pears are drawn in chalk, coal, orother substances, on the walls of the capital. During the carnival,masquers appeared as pears, with pears for caps, and carrying pears, andall this with a boldness and point that must go far to convince the Kingthat the extreme license he has affected hitherto to allow, cannot verywell accord with his secret intentions to bring France back to agovernment of coercion. The discrepancies that necessarily exist in thepresent system will, sooner or later, destroy it.

Little can be said in favour of caricatures. They address themselves toa faculty of the mind that is the farthest removed from reason, and, byconsequence, from the right; and it is a prostitution of the term tosuppose that they are either cause or effect, as connected with liberty.Such things may certainly have their effect, as means, but every goodcause is so much the purer for abstaining from the use of questionableagencies. _Au reste_, there is really a fatality of feature andexpression common to the public men of this country that is a strongprovocative to caricature. The revolution and empire appear to havegiven rise to a state of feeling that has broken out with markedsympathy, in the countenance. The French, as a nation, are far fromhandsome, though brilliant exceptions exist; and it strikes me that theywho appear in public life are just among the ugliest of the wholepeople.

Not long since I dined at the table of Mr. de ----, in company with Mr.B. of New York. The company consisted of some twenty men, all of whomhad played conspicuous parts in the course of the last thirty years. Ipointed out the peculiarity just mentioned to my companion, and askedhim if there was a single face at table which had the placid, dignified,and contented look which denotes the consciousness of right motives, afrank independence, and a mind at peace with itself. We could notdiscover one! I have little doubt that national physiognomy is affectedby national character.

You may form some idea, on the other hand, of the perfect simplicity andgood taste that prevails in French society, by a little occurrence onthe day just mentioned. A gentleman, of singularly forbiddingcountenance, sat next us; and, in the course of the conversation, hementioned the fact that he had once passed a year in New York, of whichplace he conversed with interest and vivacity. B---- was anxious to knowwho this gentleman might be. I could only say that he was a man of greatacuteness and knowledge, whom I had often met in society, but, as to hisname, I did not remember ever to have heard it. He had always conductedhimself in the simple manner that he witnessed, and it was my impressionthat he was the private secretary of the master of the house, who was adignitary of the state, for I had often met him at the same table. Herethe matter rested for a few days.

The following week we removed into the Rue St. Dominique. Directlyopposite to the _porte-cochere_ of our hotel was the _porte-cochere_ ofan hotel that had once belonged to the Princes of Conti. A day or twoafter the removal, I saw the unknown gentleman coming out of the gatewayopposite, as I was about to enter our own. He bowed, saluted me by name,and passed on. Believing this a good occasion to ascertain who he was, Icrossed the street, and asked the porter for the name of the gentlemanwho had just gone out. "Mais, c'est Monsieur le Duc!" "Duke!--whatDuke?" "Why, Monsieur le Duc de Valmy, the proprietor of this hotel!" Itwas the younger Kellerman, the hero of Marengo![6]

[Footnote 6: He is since dead.]

But I could fill volumes with anecdotes of a similar nature; for, inthese countries, in which men of illustrious deeds abound, one is neverdisturbed in society by the fussy pretension and swagger that is apt tomark the presence of a lucky speculator in the stocks. Battles, unlikebargains, are rarely discussed in society. I have already told you howlittle sensation is produced in Paris by the presence of a celebrity,though in no part of the world is more delicate respect paid to thosewho have earned renown, whether in letters, arts, or arms. Like causes,however, notoriously produce like effects; and, I think, under the newregime, which is purely a money-power system, directed by a mind whoseambition is wealth, that one really meets here more of that swagger ofstocks and lucky speculations, in the world, than was formerly the case.Society is decidedly less graceful, more care-worn, and of a worse toneto-day, than it was previously to the revolution of 1830. I presume theelements are unchanged, but the ebullition of the times is throwing thescum to the surface; a natural but temporary consequence of the presentstate of things.

While writing to you in this desultory manner, I shall seize theoccasion to give the outline of a little occurrence of quite recentdate, and which is, in some measure, of personal interest to myself. Acontroversy concerning the cost of government, was commenced some timein November last, under the following circumstances, and has but justbeen concluded. As early as the July preceding, a writer in theemployment of the French government produced a laboured article, inwhich he attempted to show that, head for head, the Americans paid morefor the benefits of government than the French. Having the field all tohimself, both as to premises and conclusions, this gentleman did notfail to make out a strong case against us; and, as a corollary to thisproposition, which was held to be proved, he, and others of his party,even went so far as to affirm that a republic, in the nature of things,must be a more expensive polity than a monarchy.

This extravagant assertion had been considered as established, by agreat many perfectly well-meaning people, for some months, before I evenknew that it had ever been made. A very intelligent and a perfectlycandid Frenchman mentioned it one day, in my presence, admitting that hehad been staggered by the boldness of the proposition, as well as by theplausibility of the arguments by which it had been maintained. It was socontrary to all previous accounts of the matter, and was, especially, somuch opposed to all I had told him, in our frequent disquisitions onAmerica, that he wished me to read the statements, and to refute them,should it seem desirable. About the same time, General Lafayette made asimilar request, sending me the number of the periodical that containedthe communication, and suggesting the expediency of answering it. Inever, for an instant, doubted the perfect right of an American, or anyone else, to expose the errors that abounded in this pretendedstatistical account, but I had little disposition for the task. Having,however, good reason to think it was aimed covertly at GeneralLafayette, with the intention to prove his ignorance of the America heso much applauded, I yielded to his repeated requests, and wrote a hastyletter to him, dissecting, as well as my knowledge and limited accessto authorities permitted, the mistakes of the other side. This letterproduced replies, and the controversy was conducted through differentchannels, and by divers agents, up to a time when the varying andconflicting facts of our opponents appeared to be pretty well exhausted.It was then announced that instructions had been sent to America toobtain more authentic information; and we were promised a fartherexposure of the weakness of the American system, when the other sideshould receive this re-enforcement to their logic.[7]

[Footnote 7: No such exposure has ever been made; and the writerunderstood, some time before he quitted France, that the informationreceived from America proved to be so unsatisfactory, that the attemptwas abandoned. The writer, in managing his part of the discussion,confined himself principally to the state of New York, being inpossession of more documents in reference to his own state, than to anyother. Official accounts, since published, have confirmed the accuracyof his calculations; the actual returns varying but a few sous a headfrom his own estimates, which were in so much too liberal, or againsthis own side of the question.]

I have no intention of going over this profitless controversy with you,and have adverted to it here, solely with a view to make you acquaintedwith a state of feeling in a portion of our people, that it may beuseful not only to expose, but correct.[8]

[Footnote 8: See my _Letter to General Lafayette_, published by Baudry,Paris.]

LETTER IV.

Gradual disappearance of the Cholera.--Death of M. Casimir Perier.--HisFuneral.--Funeral of General Lamarque.--Magnificent MilitaryEscort.--The Duc de Fitzjames.--An Alarm.--First symptoms of popularRevolt.--Scene on the Pont Royal.--Charge on the people by a body ofcavalry.--The _Sommations_.--General Lafayette and _the BonnetRouge_.--Popular Prejudices in France. England, and America.--Contest inthe Quartier Montmartre.--The Place Louis XVI.--A frightenedSentinel.--Picturesque Bivouac of troops in the Carousel.--Criticalsituation.--Night-view from the Pont des Arts.--Appearance of theStreets on the following morning.--England an enemy to Liberty.--Affairat the Porte St. Denis.--Procession of Louis-Philippe through thestreets.--Contest in the St. Mary.--Sudden Panic.--Terror of a nationalGuard and a young Conscript.--Dinner with a Courtier.--Suppression ofthe Revolt.

Dear ----,

Events have thickened since my last letter. The cholera graduallydisappeared, until it ceased to be the subject of conversation. As soonas the deaths diminished to two or three hundred a day, most peoplebecame easy; and when they got below a hundred, the disease might besaid to be forgotten. But though the malady virtually disappeared, thepublic was constantly reminded of its passage by the deaths of thosewho, by force of extraordinary care, had been lingering under its fatalinfluence. M. Casimir Perier was of the number, and his death has beenseized on as a good occasion to pass a public judgment on the measuresof the government of the _juste milieu_, of which he has been popularlysupposed to be the inventor, as well as the chief promoter. Thisopinion, I believe, however, to be erroneous. The system of the _justemilieu_ means little more than to profess one thing and to do another;it is a stupendous fraud, and sooner or later will be so viewed andappropriately rewarded. It is a profession of liberty, with a secretintention to return to a government of force, availing itself of suchmeans as offer, of which the most obvious, at present, are thestagnation of trade and the pressing necessities of all who depend onindustry, in a country that is taxed nearly beyond endurance. Neither M.Perier, nor any other man, is the prime mover of such a system; for itdepends on the Father of Lies, who usually employs the most willingagents he can discover. The inventor of the policy, _sub Diabolo_, isnow in London. M. Perier had the merits of decision, courage, andbusiness talents; and, so far from being the founder of the presentsystem, he had a natural frankness, the usual concomitant of courage,that, under other circumstances, I think, would have indisposed him toits deceptions. But he was a manufacturer, and his spinning-jennies werevery closely connected with his political faith. Another state of themarket would, most probably, have brought him again into the liberalranks.

The funeral obsequies of M. Perier having been loudly announced as atest of public opinion, I walked out, the morning they took place, toview the pomp. It amounted to little more than the effect which thepatronage of the ministry can at any time produce. There was a displayof troops and of the _employes_ of the government, but little apparentsympathy on the part of the mass of the population. As the deceased wasa man of many good qualities, this indifference was rather studied,proceeding from the discipline and collision of party politics. As anattempt to prove that the _juste milieu_ met with popular approbations Ithink the experiment was a failure.

Very different was the result, in a similar attempt made by theopposition, at the funeral of General Lamarque. This distinguishedofficer fell also a victim to the cholera, and his interment took placeon the 4th of June. The journals of the opposition had called upon itsadherents to appear on this occasion, in order to convince the King andhis ministers that they were pursuing a dangerous course, and one inwhich they were not sustained by the sentiment of the nation. Thepreparations wore a very different appearance from those made on theprevious occasion. Then everything clearly emanated from authority; now,the government was visible in little besides its arrangements tomaintain its own ascendency. The military rank of the deceased entitledhim to a military escort, and this was freely accorded to his friends;perhaps the more freely, from the fact that it sanctioned the presenceof so many more bayonets than were believed to be at the command of theministers. It was said there were twenty thousand of the National Guardspresent in uniform, wearing, however, only their side-arms. This numbermay have been exaggerated, but there certainly were a great many. Thewhole procession, including the troops, has been estimated at a hundredthousand men. The route was by the Boulevards to the Jardin des Plantes,where the body was to be delivered to the family of the deceased, inorder to be transported to the South of France for interment. Havingother engagements, I merely viewed the preparations, and thecommencement of the ceremonies, when I returned to our own quiet quarterof the town to pursue my own quiet occupations.

The day passed quietly enough with us, for the Faubourg St. Germain hasso many large hotels, and so few shops, that crowds are never common;and, on this occasion, all the floating population appeared to havecompletely deserted us, to follow the procession of poor Lamarque. I donot remember to have alluded to the change produced in this particular,by the cholera, in the streets of Paris. It is supposed that at leastten thousand of those who have no other abodes, except the holes intowhich they crept at night, were swept out of them by this fell disease.

About five o'clock, I had occasion to go to the Rue de Rivoli, and Ifound the streets and the garden with much fewer people in them than wasusual at that hour. There I heard a rumour that a slight disturbance hadtaken place on the Boulevard des Italiens, in consequence of a refusalof the Duc de Fitzjames, a leading Carlist, to take off his hat to thebody of Lamarque, as he stood at a balcony. I had often met M. deFitzjames in society, and, although a decided friend of the old regime,I knew his tone of feeling and manners to be too good, to credit a taleso idle. By a singular coincidence, the only time I had met with GeneralLamarque in private was at a little dinner given by Madame de M----, atwhich Monsieur de Fitzjames was also a guest. We were but five or six attable, and nothing could be more amicable, or in better taste, than thespirit of conciliation and moderation that prevailed between men sowidely separated by opinion. This was not long before Gen. Lamarque wasattacked by his final disease, and as there appeared to me to beimprobability in the rumour of the affair of the Boulevards, I quiterightly set it down as one of the exaggerations that daily besiege ourears. It being near six, I consequently returned home to dinner,supposing that the day would end as so many had ended before.

We were at table, or it was about half-past six o'clock, when the drumbeat the _rappel_. At one period, scarcely a day passed that we did nothear this summons; indeed, so frequent did it become, that I make littledoubt the government resorted to it as an expedient to strengthenitself, by disgusting the National Guards with the frequency of thecalls; but of late, the regular weekly parades excepted, we had heardnothing of it. A few minutes later, Francois, who had been sent to the_porte-cochere_, returned with the intelligence that a soldier of theNational Guard had just passed it, bleeding at a wound in the head. Onreceiving this information, I left the hotel and proceeded towards theriver. In the Rue du Bac, the great thoroughfare of the faubourg, Ifound a few men, and most of the women, at their shop-doors, and_portes-cocheres_, but no one could say what was going on in the moredistant quarters of the town. There were a few people on the quays andbridges, and, here and there, a solitary National Guard was going to hisplace of rendezvous. I walked rapidly through the garden, which, at thathour, was nearly empty, as a matter of course, and passing under thearch of the palace, crossed the court and the Carrousel to la Rue deRichelieu. A profound calm reigned in and about the chateau; thesentinels and loungers of the Guards seeming as tranquil as usual. Therewas no appearance of any coming and going with intelligence, and Iinferred that the royal family was either at St. Cloud, or at Neuilly.Very few people were in the Place, or in the streets; but those whowere, paused occasionally, looking about them with curiosity, and almostuniformly in a bewildered and inquiring manner.

I had reached the colonnade of the Theatre Francais, when a strong partyof _gendarmes a cheval_ went scouring up the street, at a full gallop.Their passage was so swift and sudden, that I cannot say in whichdirection they came, or whither they went, with the exception that theytook the road to the Boulevards. A _gendarme a pied_ was the only personnear me, and I asked him, if he could explain the reason of themovement. "_Je n'en sais rien_," in the _brusque_ manner that the Frenchsoldiers are a little apt to assume, when it suits their humours, wasall the reply I got.

I walked leisurely into the galleries of the Palais Royal, which I hadnever before seen so empty. There was but a single individual in thegarden, and he was crossing it swiftly, in the direction of the theatre.A head was, now and then, thrust out of a shop-door, but I never beforewitnessed such a calm in this place, which is usually alive with people.Passing part of the way through one of the glazed galleries, I wasstarted by a general clatter that sprung up all around me in everydirection, and which extended itself entirely around the whole of thelong galleries. The interruption to the previous profound quiet, was assudden as the report of a gun, and it became general, as it were, in aninstant. I can liken the effect, after allowing for the difference inthe noises, to that of letting fly sheets, tacks, and halyards, on boarda vessel of war, in a squall, and to a sudden call to shorten sail. Theplace was immediately filled with men, women, and children, and theclatter proceeded from the window-shutters that were going up all overthe vast edifice, at the same moment. In less than five minutes therewas not a shop-window exposed.

Still there was no apparent approach of danger. The drums had almostceased beating, and as I reached the Carrousel, on my way back to theRue St. Dominique, I saw nothing in the streets to justify all thisalarm, which was either the result of a panic, or was calculated forpolitical effect; artifice acting on apprehension. A few people werebeginning to collect on the bridges and quays, and there was evidently agreater movement towards the Pont Neuf, than in the lower parts of thetown. As I crossed the Pont Royal, a brigade of light artillery came upthe quays from the Ecole Militaire, the horses on the jump, and the menseated on the carriages, or mounted, as belongs to this arm. The noiseand hurry of their passage was very exciting, and it gave an impulse tothe shopkeepers of the Rue du Bac, most of whom now began to close theirwindows. The guns whirled across the bridge, and dashed into theCarrousel, on a gallop, by the _guichet_ of the Louvre.

Continuing down the Rue du Bac, the street was full of people, chieflyfemales, who were anxiously looking towards the bridge. One _garcon_, ashe aided his master in closing the shop-window, was edifying him withanathemas against "_ces messieurs les republicains_," who were believedto be at the bottom of the disturbance, and for whom he evidentlythought that the artillery augured badly. The next day he would be readyto shout _vive la republique_ under a new impulse; but, at present, itis "_vive le commerce_!"

On reaching the hotel, I gave my account of what was going on, pacifiedthe apprehensions that had naturally been awakened, and sallied forth asecond time, to watch the course of events.

By this time some forty or fifty National Guards were collected on thequay, by the Pont Royal, a point where there ought to have been severalhundreds. This was a sinister omen for the government, nor was theappearance of the crowd much more favourable. Tens of thousands nowlined the quays, and loaded the bridges; nor were these people rabble,or _sans culottes_, but decent citizens, most of whom observed a grave,and, as I thought, a portentous silence. I make no manner of doubt thathad a thousand determined men appeared among them at that moment, headedby a few leaders of known character, the government of Louis-Philippewould have dissolved like melting snow. Neither the National Guard, thearmy, nor the people were with it. Every one evidently waited the issueof events, without manifesting much concern for the fate of the presentregime. Indeed it is not easy to imagine greater apathy, or indifferenceto the result, than was nearly everywhere visible. A few shopkeepersalone seemed troubled.

On the Pont Royal a little crowd was collected around one or two men ofthe labouring classes, who were discussing the causes of thedisturbance. First questioning a respectable-looking by-stander as tothe rumours, I mingled with the throng, in order to get an idea of themanner in which the _people_ regarded the matter. It would seem that acollision had taken place between the troops and a portion of thecitizens, and that a charge had been made by a body of cavalry on someof the latter, without having observed the formalities required by thelaw. Some of the people had raised the cry "_aux arms_;" several _corpsde garde_ had been disarmed, and many thousands were rallying in defenceof their liberties. In short everything wore the appearance of thecommencement of another revolution. The point discussed by the crowd,was the right of the dragoons to charge a body of citizens withoutreading the riot act, or making what the French call, the"_sommations_." I was struck with the plain common sense of one or twoof the speakers, who were of the class of artisans, and who uttered moregood reason, and displayed more right feeling, in the five minutes Ilistened, than one is apt to meet with, on the same subjects, in a year,in the salons of Paris. I was the more struck by this circumstance, inconsequence of the manner in which the same topic had been broached,quite lately, in the Chamber of Deputies.

In one of the recent affairs in the east of France, the troops had firedon a crowd, without the previous _sommations_, in consequence, as wasalleged, of some stones being hurled from the crowd against themselves.Every one, who has the smallest knowledge of a government of laws,understands its action in an affair of this sort. Ten thousand peopleare in a street, in their own right, and half a dozen of them commit anoutrage. Military force becomes necessary, but before it is appliedcertain forms are required, to notify the citizen that his ordinaryrights are suspended, in the interests of public order, and to warn himto go away. This is a provision that the commonest intellect canunderstand; and yet some of the leading administration men, _lawyerstoo_, maintained that soldiers had the rights of other men, and ifstones were hurled at them from a crowd, they were perfectly justifiablein using their arms against that crowd! It is only necessary, you willperceive, to employ an agent, or two, to cast a few stones from a crowd,to place every collection of citizens at the mercy of an armed force, onthis doctrine. A soldier has the right of a citizen to defend himselfbeyond dispute, against the man who assails him; but a citizen who isassailed from a crowd has no right to discharge a pistol into thatcrowd, by way of defending himself. But this is of a piece with most ofthe logic of the friends of exclusion. Their cause is bad, and theirreasoning is necessarily bad also.

From the Pont Royal I proceeded to the Pont Neuf, where the collectionof people was still more numerous, every eye being fastened on the quaysin the direction of the Place de la Bastille, near which the disturbancehad commenced. Nothing, however, was visible, though, once or twice, weheard a scattering fire of musketry. I waited here an hour, but nothingfarther was heard, and, according to promise, I returned to the hotel,to repeat the little I had seen and gathered. In passing, I observedthat the number of National Guards at the Pont Royal had increased toabout a hundred.

After quieting the apprehensions of my family, I proceeded to quietthose of a lady of my acquaintance, who was nearly alone in herlodgings. I found her filled with apprehensions, and firmly believingthat the present government was to be overturned. Among other things,she told me that the populace had drawn General Lafayette, in triumph,to his own house, and that, previously to the commencement of theconflict, he had been presented with a _bonnet rouge_, which he had putupon his head. The _bonnet rouge_, you will understand, with allFrenchmen is a symbol of extreme Jacobinism, and of the reign of terror.I laughed at her fears, and endeavoured to convince her that the idletale about General Lafayette could not be true. So far from wishing torule by terror, it was his misfortune not to resort to the measures ofcaution that were absolutely necessary to maintain his own legalascendancy, whenever he got into power. He was an enthusiast forliberty, and acted on the principle that others were as well disposedand as honest as himself. But to all this she turned a deaf ear, for,though an amiable and a sensible woman, she had been educated in theprejudices of a caste, being the daughter and sister of peers of France.

I found the tale about General Lafayette quite rife, on going againinto the streets. The disposition to give credit to vulgar reports ofthis nature, is not confined to those whose condition in life naturallydispose them to believe the worst of all above them, for thevulgar-minded form a class more numerous than one might be induced tothink, on glancing a look around him. Liberality and generosity offeeling is the surest test of a gentleman; but, in addition to those oftraining and of a favourable association, except in very peculiar cases,they are apt to require some strong natural advantages, to help out thetendencies of breeding and education. Every one who has seen much of theworld, must have remarked the disposition, on the part of those who havenot had the same opportunities, to cavil at opinions and usages thatthey cannot understand, merely because they do not come within thecircle of their own every-day and familiar usages. Our own countryabounds with these rustic critics; and I can remember the time whenthere was a species of moral impropriety attached to practices that didnot enter into every man's habits. It was almost deemed immoral tobreakfast or dine at an hour later than one's neighbour. Now, just thissort of feeling, one quite as vulgar, and much more malignant, prevailsin Europe against those who may see fit to entertain more liberalnotions in politics than others of their class. In England, I havealready told you, the system is so factitious, and has been so artfullyconstructed, by blending church and state, that it must be an uncommonlyclever man who, in politics, can act vigorously on the golden rule ofChrist, that of doing "unto others, as you would have others do untoyou," and escape the imputation of infidelity! A desire to advance theinterests of his fellow-creatures, by raising them in the social scale,is almost certain to cause a man to be set down as destitute of moralsand honesty. By imputations of this nature, the efforts and influence ofsome of the best men England has ever produced, have been nearlyneutralized, and there is scarcely a distinguished liberal in thekingdom, at this moment, whom even the well-meaning of thechurch-and-state party do not regard with a secret distrust of hisintentions and character. In the practice of imitation this feeling haseven extended (though in a mitigated form) to America, a country inwhich, were the truth felt and understood, a man could not possiblyfulfil all the obligations of education and superior training, withoutbeing of the party of the people. Many gentlemen in America, beyonddispute, are not of the popular side, but I am of opinion that they makea fundamental mistake as _gentlemen_. They have permitted the vulgarfeelings generated by contracted associations and the insignificantevils of a neighbourhood, to still within them the high feelings andgenerous tendencies that only truly belong to the caste.

In France, the English feeling, modified by circumstances, is veryapparent, although it is not quite so much the fashion to lay stress onmere morality. The struggle of selfishness and interests is less veiledand mystified in France than on the other side of the Channel. But theselfish principle, if anything, is more active; and few struggle hardfor others, without being suspected of base motives.

By looking back at the publications of the time, you will learn themanner in which Washington was vituperated by his enemies, at thecommencement of the revolution. Graydon, in his "Memoirs of a Life spentin Pennsylvania," mentions a discourse he held with a young Englishofficer, who evidently was well disposed, and wished to know the truth.This gentleman had been taught to believe Washington an adventurer, whohad squandered the property of a young widow whom he had married, bygambling and dissipation, and who was now ready to embark in anydesperate enterprise to redeem his fortune! This, then, was probably thehonest opinion the British army, in 1776, entertained of the man, whomsubsequent events have shown to have been uniformly actuated by thenoblest sentiments, and who, instead of being the adventurerrepresented, is known to have put in jeopardy a large estate, throughdisinterested devotion to the country, and the prevailing predominanttrait of whose character was an inflexible integrity of purpose. Now,Lafayette is obnoxious to a great deal of similar vulgar feeling,without being permitted, by circumstances, to render the purity of hismotives as manifest, as was the better fortune of his great model,Washington. The unhandsome and abrupt manner in which he was dismissedfrom the command of the National Guards, though probably apeace-offering to the allies, was also intended to rob him of the creditof a voluntary resignation.[9]--But, all this time, we are losing sightof what is passing in the streets of Paris.

[Footnote 9: General Lafayette took the republican professions of theKing too literally, at first, and he did not always observe the_menagement_, perhaps, that one seated on a throne, even though it be apopular one, is apt to expect. In 1830 he told the writer the King had,that morning, said, that some about him called the General a "maire dupalais." On being asked if the King appeared to entertain the samenotion, his answer was, "Well, he professes not to do so; but then Ithink he has _tant soit peu_ of the same feeling." This was ticklishground to stand on with a sovereign, and, perhaps, a case without aparallel in France, since the days of Hugues Capet. A few weeks later,General Lafayette related another conversation held with Louis-Philippe,on the subject of his own unceremonious dismissal from office. "You